


and red

by NikitaHawkeye



Category: Trese (Comics)
Genre: Bad Ending, F/M, evil alexandra
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:00:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23821972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NikitaHawkeye/pseuds/NikitaHawkeye
Summary: She was cruel, beautiful, and red; he wished he could kill her then.
Relationships: Maliksi/Alexandra Trese
Kudos: 9





	and red

He would have to end her.

How it took him years to arrive at this conclusion, Maliksi can't quite fathom. 

All he knew is that sometime in the near future, he would have to wrap his hands around her pretty little neck and wring the black void she called her life out of her. 

It was more than she deserved; quick, painless death was a kind of mercy she did not earn. Not with the piles of corpses around her throne she called her effigy, not with the irreversible damage she caused with just a snap of her lithe fingers. 

Not with the blood of his family on her hands. Blood that he can still smell up to this very moment. Smell that makes his guts churn and coil and seethe with blind madness. 

The worst thing of all, he knew, deep in his soul, that he could strangle and wring and drain her life all he wanted, but it would never bring him satisfaction. He knew, despite his righteous fury, that killing her would kill him too.

Alexandra Trese was still sitting on her throne, cheek in her palm and elbow on the armrest, eyes perpetually on the sky, mind constantly scheming as her fingers idly playing with her dagger of a sister. Her warchildren guards stood valiantly beside her, eagerly waiting for more chaos. She was cruel, beautiful, and  _ red;  _ he wished he could kill her then. 

_ And yet… _

And yet, despite her bitter betrayal and her vile machinations, Maliksi knew he still held the torch for her. She had his heart inside the palm of her gloved, bloodstained hands, and he knew she was fully aware of this. 

She was fully, painfully aware of this, and she made sure that he knew, every single night, when she takes him to her chambers, her painted smile wicked under the darkness as she prodded and touched and stroked until he groans and whimpers in ecstacy and begs for mercy and  _ something else _ . 

He loved her still, black heart and wicked smiles and glinting eyes and all, and he hated himself harder every single morning, whenever he woke up naked and deeply satiated and yearning for  _ more.  _ She screws with him, body and mind and soul, then sends him out to do her biddings for her, and every single time, he would comply, like the world's best servant and idiot.

Somehow, over the years, he had developed a fixation over the sixth child of the sixth child, until fixation turned to lust then to fear, when her impassive stares and cold demeanor slowly transformed into malicious gazes and sadistic tendencies. She turned, right before his hungry eyes, and he didn't even realize until it was too late and he was the only remaining Armanaz in the world. By then, Alexandra Trese, thirty-three years of age, already made her choice, and her choice was to plunge both worlds into destruction. He had been complicitous, and he didn't even know until the end.

He supposed there were glaring signs along the way, but it's really hard to pay attention when the enigma he had been wooing for so long finally shows some form of reciprocation. The thought of her touches and kisses as the honeypot to his demise made his stomach vehemently protest, and no amount of scrubbing and washing would erase that, not when he still succumbs to the same thing every single night. 

He loved her still, and it was evident every night when he touches her exactly how she commands it, when he pushes and pulls in the exact rhythm that makes her gasp out in pleasure, and when he knew he would do it over and over again. It was evident in the fact that he hesitated for years to hatch a plan to get out and fight back. 

He loved her still, and this is why he looks at his shaking, flexing hands and shudders at his resolve.

He loved her still, and this is exactly why he would have to end her.

**Author's Note:**

> They'll never have a happy ending, will they?


End file.
